


letters sent

by stilahey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Letters, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 08:17:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17783849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilahey/pseuds/stilahey
Summary: Kei hates talking on the phone. He picks up for his family, and he reluctantly picks up for his friends depending on who it is— Tadashi falls under family, while a call from Hinata usually signals bad news and another episode of“Kageyama and I got lost trying to find a cool place to practice, come help us”.Kei hardly picks up the phone, except for when Kuroo calls.





	letters sent

**Author's Note:**

> ive been so excited to post this!! i hope you enjoy it <3

i.

The first time Tsukishima Kei gets a letter in the mail from none other than Kuroo Tetsurou, the return address of his Tokyo apartment written neatly on the outside of the envelope, Kei doesn’t know what to do.

Immediately he questions if this was even meant for him, because he hasn’t directly spoken to Kuroo in a _very_ long time, it could just be a mistake— but the characters of his name are clear as day at the top line of the send address, Tsukishima Kei, with an obnoxious addition of “ _Tsukki!_ ” in brackets next to it.

His next question is how Kuroo managed to get his address in the first place, though that’s an easy enough thought to answer, because Kei has terrible friends who would definitely meddle in his business and give away his address for little to no reward.

Just the knowledge that they’re inconveniencing Kei would be enough for someone like Tadashi to sell him out, and of course it’d be under the guise of “ _it’s not an_ inconvenience _to make friends, Kei!_ ” but it is when said “ _friend_ ” is a terribly annoying college student that Kei hasn’t seen in forever.

The third and final question about all of this, the biggest one yet, is _why?_

It’s just a basic letter in a plain white envelope, Kuroo’s messy handwriting scrawled across two sides of lined A4 as he details how college is going for him, how he misses his friends, how he decided he’d get back in touch with Kei on a whim one day and so here he is, writing this letter.

He goes on to ask how things are for Kei, how’s third year treating him, and he says that he _knew_ Kei was gonna make captain, it was inevitable. That comment makes Kei’s heart skip a beat for unknown reasons, but he ignores it and keeps skimming.

Kuroo asks about the new first years, the second years, and then about Tadashi, about Hinata and Kageyama and “ _that cute blondie— the other one, not you_ ”, with a crude winky-face kaomoji drawn at the end of the sentence.

Kei isn’t sure if he’s more confused about the weak attempt at hitting on Yachi, or the even weaker attempt at hitting on _him_.

It’s signed off at the bottom, a little cat sticker next to Kuroo’s name, and Kei lets out a short laugh at the childish nature of it. It suits Kuroo, in a way.

The motion of his laugh accidentally crinkles the letter, so he carefully straightens it back out before folding it neatly in half and sliding it back into the envelope.

He puts it on top of his desk and that’s where it sits for a week, untouched and pristine amongst a stack of textbooks, right up until Kei picks it up one night to make sure he’s getting the return address right.

He still might not know exactly what to do, but the least he can offer is a simple letter back.

 

ii.

Kuroo Tetsurou had wrote back to him again after that. And again. And _again_.

It’s been going on for weeks now, and Kei isn’t sure how this became a part of his life, but he can’t exactly say he _hates_ it.

It’s _fun_ , he’ll admit that much, though if anyone asks specifically, he’d just say that he enjoys the aesthetics of it above all else— which is _partly_ true anyways.

There’s something weirdly nostalgic about writing letters, because all his communication with his friends and family is either in person or over text and email, so there’s a newfound joy in getting to actually _write_ about his day to someone who wasn’t there.

He also enjoys buying the supplies for it; finding nice quality paper, spotting cute envelopes while he’s out and having Tadashi question what he could possibly need them for, indulging in the cuter side of it all and buying a few packs of stickers here and there.

Kuroo’s been doing the same, Kei thinks, because his letters are also a lot prettier now than they were at the start. He’s not sure who started putting in the effort first, but it’s nice regardless.

Kuroo uses different paper each week, no longer using plain lined A4 and instead venturing out into coloured papers, sometimes without lines and sometimes _patterned_ , but his handwriting is still a mess so it kinda cancels out in the end. The sentiment is still there.

His sticker usage has increased too, at least ten adorning each side of the paper, and he even feels the need to send the sheet with the leftover stickers on. Kei doesn’t ever use them though, just keeps them tucked away in the top drawer of his desk.

They talk about everything they can think of.

They used to just talk about school, their classes, how volleyball is going and how their friends are; but now it’s topics like a cute cat that Kuroo saw on his walk home from class, which he was late for because he slept through his _four_ alarms; or Kei discussing a cool film that he and his friends went out to see and that he thinks Kuroo would definitely enjoy too.

Kuroo details a new ramen recipe he tried at home and he substitutes out the ingredients that he knows Kei hates, and Kei replies telling him that he’s not a great chef so he probably won’t ever attempt it.

He does attempt it, and it’s _good_ , but he knows Kuroo could do better.

Kuroo talks about a “ _totally awesome_ ” band that he saw at a bar earlier in the week, recommending them to Kei, and Kei chastises him for going out drinking on a Monday night when he has a morning class on Tuesday.

He lists some of the music he’s been listening to recently as return recommendations for Kuroo, and Kuroo gets back to him with positive reviews, as always.

It’s fun, and after staying up far too late sometimes thinking about it, Kei will hesitantly admit that he’s interested in a lot more than just the _aesthetics_ of this letter-writing situation.

He continues to look forward to getting a letter in the mail at the end of every week.

 

iii.

The first time Tsukishima Kei gets a _parcel_ from Kuroo Tetsurou, thick padded envelope covered in sparkly star stickers and poorly drawn kaomoji’s, Kei feels like he’s a first year all over again.

He feels _younger_ , like he should be wearing a Karasuno track jacket that’s a little too big for him and his nails should be chipped with improper care; but instead he’s standing in his bedroom with a packed gym bag slung over his shoulder, his Karasuno uniform sporting a bold 1 on the front, the leftover tape from practice wrapped tight around his fingers as he stares down at the package in his hands.

His name still sits neatly at the top line of the send address, and Kei’s heart reacts in the exact same way it did when he first met Kuroo— which is to say it just kinda stops completely.

Breathing becomes difficult and his emotions are instantly all over the place; he’s excited, he’s nervous, he doesn’t really know how he feels.

He’s back to talking about his reaction to the parcel, _obviously_.

He quickly drops his stuff aside so he can climb onto the bed and finally open the thing that is currently ruining his entire life.

Inside is a few small things; entire unopened sheets of stickers, some cat themed and some dinosaur themed; the leftover sparkly star stickers, the moon ones untouched in the centre of the sheet; an acrylic strap of a cute pastel-coloured strawberry, and a CD— in a transparent plastic case, red sharpie scribbled on the disc itself reading “ _recs for Tsukki!_ ”.

There’s a letter too, of course.

The envelope is bright red, and Kei scoffs at the obnoxiousness of it before gently opening it and pulling the letter out. A few sheets of pink paper are stapled together, more star stickers littering each page, and Kei crosses his legs as he flicks through each sheet.

It’s the same old, nothing out of the ordinary; Kuroo keeps Kei up to date on the weekly adventures of this one annoying guy in Kuroo’s Friday afternoon class, he tapes down a recipe page that he clearly ripped straight out of a cookbook, and then he asks if Kei watched a shark documentary that was on earlier in the week (he did, of course he did).

The last page is a new addition to their routine, and mostly explains where Kuroo picked up the gifts from— that he saw some stuff while out with his friends and it made him think of “ _a certain cute blondie—_ actually _you, this time_ ”, and that the CD is a return for all the times Kei gave Kuroo new music to listen to.

It’s a little weird that this is becoming what it is, and Kei isn’t even sure what, exactly, “ _it_ ” is. He doesn’t know if it _is_ anything.

He could say that he doesn’t know what he _wants_ it to be, either, but there’s a fluttering of butterflies in his stomach at the thought of it being something more, and there’s an unmistakeable skip of his heartbeat when he thinks about placing “ _crush_ ” and “ _Kuroo Tetsurou_ ” in the same sentence.

Still, he puts the sticker packets on top of some books on his desk, he hooks the keychain onto his gym bag, he carefully drops the letter on top of the pile with the others in his desk drawer, and he slots the CD into the disc drive of his laptop while plugging his favourite headphones in.

If he pulls up an internet browser and starts to search amazon for bubble-padded envelopes— no one needs to know.

 

iv.

After so many months, Kei isn’t surprised anymore to find a cardboard box sitting on the kitchen table when he gets home from practice.

The first time was _confusing_ , he tried to recall whether he’d ordered anything online and then quickly realised that no, he hadn’t; he probably should have immediately picked up on the familiar stickers plastered on every side of the box, and the handwriting that Kei had come to memorise scrawled messily across the top.

His next letter to Kuroo after that incident had demanded he doesn’t send anything that big again, it must be costing him a fortune in shipping, does he even have any braincells left or has college killed off the remaining two—

He’d received a slightly larger box the week after.

Now though, after giving up on fighting it, he doesn’t mind, and in fact he sort of _expects_ a package every weekend.

His mom always leaves them there on the table, untouched, and maybe collars him at some point when he tries to sneak past unnoticed, asking him about his “ _friend in Tokyo, the cute stickers they decorate the boxes with, they must be nice_ ”, but he slides out of it with a red face and she smiles back in a way that’s all too knowing.

After so many months, it’s also become a thing to call each other when their stuff arrives.

Kei hates talking on the phone. He picks up for his family, and he reluctantly picks up for his friends depending on who it is— Tadashi falls under family, while a call from Hinata usually signals bad news and another episode of “ _Kageyama and I got lost trying to find a cool place to practice, come help us_ ”.

Kei hardly picks up the phone, except for when Kuroo calls.

It’s like a live review of the contents of their parcels, an unboxing video but the audio only, and instead of actually talking about the stuff inside, they usually get side-tracked and bring up discussions of previous packages and whether they’ve gotten around to finishing all the snacks from last week’s box.

They never read the letters though, always leaving those for after the phone call, just so they have an excuse to send another letter back; since there’d be nothing for them to say if they read the previous one and answer all the questions out loud.

Kuroo talks lightly down the phone and Kei can hear the tapping of his keyboard faintly in the background. He’s working, but he insisted it was still fine to call, that he wouldn’t miss their weekly parcel reviews for the world.

They don’t do this at any other time. They text, regularly, but never call besides this weekly thing— Kei doesn’t dwell too much on it, because he’d end up freaking out at the not-at-all-sudden realisation that he definitely wants _more_ from Kuroo.

It’s happened too many times to count, with Tadashi usually a first-hand witness to Kei’s midnight “ _I have a crush, will you please stop laughing at me_ ” meltdowns.

He’d also end up a little disappointed that maybe Kuroo doesn’t want more from Kei.

“Did you seriously send me _four_ of those cheesecake KitKats?”

“Yeah! They’re super good!” Kuroo snickers, “besides, I ate the rest so I had to send them before I consumed the entire box, packaging and all.”

Kei grins, moving his phone to hold it on his shoulder as he tears one of the packets open. He hates talking on the phone, and he certainly hates _eating_ while on the phone.

“You’re the worst,” he takes a bite, “I hate you.”

It’s not true at all.

Kuroo laughs loudly—boyish and ugly and everything Kei misses hearing in person—the tapping noise stilling for a second before he sighs.

“Yeah, yeah,” he lets out a pleased hum, “sure you do, Tsukki.”

 

v.

Kei has been staring down at the parcel in his hands for what feels like hours now.

In reality it’s probably only been around fifteen minutes, but that’s fifteen too many in a situation like this— “ _this_ ” is a weird mixture between heaven and hell that Kei can’t seem to figure out. Purgatory, maybe, stuck permanently in this mess until he figures out a solution.

He’s tied in a vicious cycle; he looks into the box, the contents stare back, he looks at the calendar on his wall, and it stares back.

The date stays the same, the 14th of February, and the contents in the package also stay the same, a pink envelope and a clear cellophane bag of chocolates, tied neatly with a matching pink ribbon. It’s fastened into a bow, and it really shouldn’t be as cute as it is given the circumstances.

He could argue that he didn’t want this, that he doesn’t understand, he didn’t get the package or he didn’t know the intention— but his heart beats fast in his chest, _traitorous_ , and he also knows what a _terrible_ liar he is. He hasn’t said any of it out loud and it still sounds shaky, even in his head.

They’ve already had their weekly call, Kuroo receiving a package from Kei a few days ago, but this is another one and it’s unexpected and Kei isn’t sure if he’s meant to break their routine or not.

He supposes this parcel is already breaking a lot of other things about their _routine_.

The phone rings once, twice, three times before Kuroo picks up.

“Tsukki!” His voice is upbeat, excited, “to what do I owe the pleasure of _another_ phone call?”

He sounds genuine, and Kei starts to doubt that maybe this wasn’t intended to be a Valentine’s thing, that the box just arrived early or Kuroo had to send it early for a number of reasons.

The contents continue to taunt him with their very obvious meaning, and he sighs.

“I, uh—” he pauses, and his voice involuntarily softens when he picks up the letter with his free hand, “I got your parcel today, Kuroo.”

The silence is deafening. Kei can’t even hear Kuroo breathing anymore.

“ _Oh_.”

Kuroo lets out a heavy huff before continuing.

“Did you— have you read the letter?”

“No, not yet,” Kei says as he turns it over in his hand.

There’s a bright red sticker, heart-shaped, keeping the envelope closed, and little heart drawings all over the back. They’re unmistakeably sloppy and Kei starts to consider that Kuroo just doesn’t know how to hold a pen properly or something.

Despite that, the letter is absolutely _adorable_ , looking like it came from a middle-schooler and not a twenty-year-old _college_ student. Kei bites back a giddy smile.

“Good, good. Don’t read it now, that’ll be super embarrassing for me,” Kuroo laughs nervously, “but you… you know what I’m getting at, right?”

His voice is unlike any other time Kei’s heard him speak. Usually Kuroo is loud and bubbly, he’s the epitome of confidence, and his boisterous laughs and stupid jokes emphasise that; but now he’s softer, quieter, every sentence slower and like he’s purposely choosing and evaluating the right words to use.

It’s a calculated side to him that Kei hasn’t seen in forever— though in general, he hasn’t actually seen _Kuroo_ in forever.

Despite this, Kei is confident about the decision he’s come to.

He puts the envelope back in the box and then gently moves the entire thing aside, falling back onto his bed with a small sigh. He brings the phone closer to his ear when he responds.

“Yeah,” he grins, “and _yes_ is my answer.”

Kuroo lets out a deep sigh before breaking into giggly laughter. It’s carefree and relieved and Kei finds himself smiling wider alongside him.

“Thank god, because those chocolates are handmade and they’re _super_ good. I kept some for myself, you’re gonna love ‘em.”

“Of course you did,” Kei runs a hand through his hair before chuckling, and then turns his head to the side to look over at the box.

“I’ll be sure to write you a review in my next letter.”

 

(Kei titles his next letter with “ _dear Tetsurou_ ”, and he doesn’t think twice about it.

There’s a handful of things he could respond to from Kuroo’s confession, but he thinks he said enough out loud when he had accepted it, and he’s also a little too nervous to start writing an equally mushy letter back.

It’s not like he has nothing to say, because he has a _lot_ to say, and that’s exactly the problem; Kei could easily write pages upon pages of how he’s glad Kuroo had sent him a stupid letter on a whim all those months ago, that he hates to admit it but he’s been thinking about Kuroo’s stupid hair and stupid voice and stupid face ever since he met him.

It’s _embarrassing_.

Instead he talks about school, about watching his friends deal with Valentine’s day; how Kageyama had completely forgotten about it and that was definitely what they all expected of him, how Tadashi had turned down a fair share of confessions with confidence and then completely fallen apart when it came to making his own confession to Yachi, and how Hinata had given everyone bright orange chocolates, but they tasted a lot better than they all thought they would.

He mentions that none of that topped Kuroo’s chocolates though— he was right, they _were_ super good.

It’s _enough_ , and eventually he’ll gather up the nerve to write a sappy letter back, but for now he smiles warmly and signs off with a purposely dramatic “ _your boyfriend, Kei”_.)

**Author's Note:**

> i drew some art to go alongside this over on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/transtsukki) so mayhaps check that out and feel free to say hey!! im friendly i swear
> 
> also: keep ur eyes peeled on white day >:3c


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